


Rhythm of a Wild Heart

by Lirigan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abandonment, Apostates (Dragon Age), Childhood Trauma, Dalish Issues, Elvhen Language, F/M, Families of Choice, Found Family, Healing, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Mage-Templar Dynamics (Dragon Age), Rite of Tranquility, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirigan/pseuds/Lirigan
Summary: Vairi is an elven apostate, originally raised by Clan Senriel. Cast out at a young age, she wandered the forests for many years, blurring the line between elf and animal. A little under a year before the conclave explosion, she encountered Solas in the woods and they began traveling together. Now she wishes to re-enter some semblance of society and stop the Breach by joining the Inquisition.By approaching Adaar, she thrusts herself into a world for which she has no roadmap. She will gain associates, enemies, friends, and a lover in the most unexpected place. But Vairi will also get far more danger and pain than she ever bargained for.
Relationships: Adaar/Blackwall, Alistair/Cousland (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Sour

Vairi, in the aspect of the white kestrel, perched on the stone wall. This was a form comforting to her; one she had known for many years. It was a form where she could feel safe and unseen, even among the humans and the Templars who would leash her. No one thought twice about a bird going about its business. No one would think a bird was a rebel mage. Vairi was comfortable with that, because she wasn't a rebel mage. She’d never even set foot inside a Circle. If she’d grown up among the Dalish -- even if she’d been cast out -- and had been a “free mage” all her life, what even was there to rebel against?

But the Templars wouldn't know the difference. So here she was, hiding in white feathers and plain sight. 

She lifted her beak towards the sky. Just yesterday, the Breach was pouring out demons by the hundreds. But today it was stable; at least for now. The green, swirling vortex in the clouds had dimmed only slightly. Not as many demons flooding out, but it wasn't entirely fixed. And the Inquisition had just been reborn, forged from the embers of the Chantry that's now in shambles, reigniting with intent: to restore order.

Herah Adaar, the only Qunari that Vairi had ever seen (and the only Qunari anyone here had likely ever seen) was being exalted as a chosen one. A true Herald of Andraste. The irony of such a thing; that a being who stands over six feet tall with horns should be mentioned in the same breath as the messiah herself. Even the _shemlen_ believed it. With the mark on Adaar's hand, they stabilized the sky with new targets of stabilizing the world.

And Vairi wasn't a part of any of that. At least, not yet. Soon, she decided, she could reveal herself and ask to join the cause. She wanted to try her hand at being a part of something, a part of people, after all those years of forested isolation. But most importantly, she wanted less demons. 

The feathers on the back of her neck tingled. She was being watched.

Solas. He stood by the healer's cabin, glaring at her. He didn't have to speak, but Vairi knew what he would be saying if he was speaking. _We have already discussed this. I have a dispensation from the Seeker to be here, and you don't. It's not safe._

Solas was a mage as well, but he and Vairi couldn't have been less alike. Instead of shapeshifting and healing, he was a Dreamer, one who visited the Fade often. He was grim, and cautious. And he was adamant that Vairi stay away, though she was here to do the exact opposite. She had to prove to herself, and him, that she was capable of being part of some sort of society, if not the polite kind.

"I'm quite serious, _da'len_. It isn't safe for you here," Solas whispered, angrily.

Adaar approached him, one eyebrow raised. "Solas, is… everything all right?"

"Yes," Solas cleared his throat and straightened his tunic. "I am simply… dealing with something at the moment."

Adaar crossed their mail-clad arms. "You and the wall having a disagreement?" 

Solas's brow wrinkled. "No, it is… what I should tell you is that..."

Vairi saw he was floundering. He couldn’t explain himself without acknowledging her, which he did not want. Now was her chance. She flew down, alighting on the ground in front of the Qunari. Vairi returned to her elven form.

"Don't ' _da'len_ ' me, Solas." She turned to Adaar. "Herald. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Vairi, and I want to join your cause.”

Solas pinched the bridge of his nose. Adaar’s eyebrows furrowed, giving the shapeshifter a once-over. Vairi became acutely aware of her unkempt hair, and the dirt, leaves, and pine needles sticking to her robes. These things seemed to become attached to her as she transformed back; as if the mess of being an animal caught up to her all at once. She realized her clothes weren't exactly the most normal looking either: her undershirt was a faded yellow blouse, and the green coat she wore over it had been torn so many times and in so many places there was little shape left to it. Vairi found many scraps of cloth in her days in the woods. She found them hanging off of thorny bushes, on the thin fingers of low-hanging branches. She kept the ones she liked. The ones which had bright colors or the glimpse of a beautiful pattern, or a velvety texture. Vairi had tied them to all parts of her coat, partially to try to mend the holes back together. In a way, they made her feel like she had feathers even when she wasn't a bird. It had become comforting, but she knew to shems and others it must have looked strange. In vain, Vairi smoothed out her leggings.

Adaar looked Vairi in the eyes. Vairi had to look up at them. Creators, the Herald was tall. “Why do you want to join the Inquisition?”

“I just want less demons, like everyone else.” Vairi explained. “I won’t be a burden. I can scout by shapeshifting and I’m a healer. A talented one. I can take care of people when you're in the field.”

Adaar’s gaze softened. Vairi appeared to have said the right thing. The Herald of Andraste extended a hand to the apostate. Vairi allowed herself to smile as she shook Adaar's large gray hand. "Welcome to the Inquisition, Vairi."

"Thank you, Herald. And if you could let your Templars know to let me be, that would be much appreciated."

Adaar gave one brisk nod and walked away. To take care of other business, Vairi presumed.

Vairi smirked and looked at Solas. "I won't say 'I told you so,' don't worry."

Solas shook his head. "Perhaps I was overly cautious. The Herald is difficult to read. I'm glad they accepted your help." 

"I plan to avoid the Templars when I can.” Vairi crossed her arms. “It'll be easy since they have giant flaming swords on their armor."

"Indeed," Solas shifted his weight. "Though, Commander Cullen is a former Templar, and is without an emblazoned sword. You might consider keeping that in mind. I do not know how far he has removed himself from Templar ideology."

"I will keep that in mind," Vairi said. "Don't go worrying about me, now."

"I'm afraid it's too late, but I will try."

Vairi smiled and took back her perch on the wall as a kestrel, still content to remain in plain sight. After all, Adaar knew where to reach her and what she looked like, should they require any help.

For the next few days, the Inquisition’s inner circle traveled about, gathering allies. Vairi was not called into the field just yet, but found herself put to good use by apothecary Adan. It was good work. Exploring the areas nearby was second nature to her. What’s more, flying as the kestrel over the snowy lands allowed her to fetch as much elfroot in an hour as a humanoid could in three. Adan would never communicate this, but Vairi suspected he was overjoyed to return, at least for a while, to his scientific endeavors.

Adaar gathered their allies across Ferelden and Orlais; powerful individuals who pledged themselves to the cause. Vairi contemplated introducing herself to them; some more than others. She had lived in the woods for seven years, alone, but for the year she spent traveling with Solas. Vairi had all but forgotten how to converse with people in a large group, and had even less of an idea how to talk to the _shemlen_. She decided to start with the tavern. It was where all the soldiers went to talk when they weren't fighting. A talking place.

The tavern was brown and warm, thick with the smell of soldiers and alcohol. A roaring fireplace was on one wall, and next to it was a human with a lute, strumming with practiced fingers. 

Vairi went up to the bar. As she walked, she rehearsed what she'd say to the _shemlen_ over and over. _Hello, I'd like a drink, please. Hello, I'd like a drink, please. Hello_.

"What can I get you, dearie?" the woman at the bar asked. 

"Hello, I'd like a drink, please." Vairi said, pleased with herself.

"All right, which kind?" 

Vairi's smile faded. "What?"

"Which kind of drink do you want?" 

"A… drink." Vairi repeated, futilely. She could have sworn A Drink was something she could order. She overheard so many of the soldiers talking about getting A Drink; she had thought it was just one kind. 

The bartender, Flissa, blinked. "We have wine, beer, ale…?"

Vairi was frozen, silent. She heard someone clear their throat purposefully behind her. A line was forming.

"One wine, please. A regular wine. One normal wine, please," Vairi said, quickly. Her ears were going hot.

Flissa filled a goblet with a deep red drink, and handed it to Vairi. She picked it up and went off to the side near the door, out of the way. There wasn't much room. No empty tables. Vairi clutched her goblet with both hands as the buzz of the tavern began to consume her.

"Hey you, get over here."

Another elf motioned to her. Blonde, city elf by her looks. Her accent sounded Fereldan.

The city elf scowled and waved with more ferocity. "Don't just stand there, get over here!" 

Vairi blushed and took the seat opposite the city elf.

"Hello," Vairi said, remembering the other thing she'd rehearsed. "My name is Vairi. Pleased to meet you."

"My name's Sera," the blonde elf said shortly, as if names weren't that important. “You looked lost, so you can sit with me.”

Sera wore a red tunic with huge, deep runs up and down the length. But she didn't seem to care. Short choppy blonde fringe hung over her forehead.

"Seen you hanging around Solas," Sera said. She took a gulp of her drink from a brown tankard. "You two friends or summat?"

"Yes. I think." Vairi said. She tried a sip of the wine. It was sour, and she unsuccessfully concealed a wince.

Sera looked at Vairi with narrowed, questioning eyes. "Okay," she said slowly.

Sera's eyes wandered down, looking at Vairi's clothes. 

"You take that armor off a Dalish?" 

"No, I am Dalish," Vairi answered. 

Sera's nose wrinkled. "Oh. Hoped you weren't one of those Elfy Elves. Wait, if you're Dalish, where's your things?" 

"Things?" 

"You know!" Sera waved her hand in front of her own face, wiggling her fingers.

"Oh, my tattoos. Um…" Vairi thought of a way to explain why she hadn't gotten them. Did shems and city elves even know the ritual behind the _vallaslin_? Did they know the shame behind not getting the blood-writing?

"Don't worry, s'fine." Sera said. "Don't need you getting all sappy on me if it's that hard to say."

Vairi chewed on her lip.

"Why'd you join?" Sera asked. 

That was a question Vairi knew how to answer. "I just want to help close the Breach."

"Oh it's spooky, yeah?" Sera giggled. "I can't stand it. All this magic shite going around."

"Oh," Vairi said. "I'm a mage."

Sera paused. She muttered under her breath, "too many magic people around," but Vairi could still hear it. "Just don't go magic-ing all over me and we'll be good."

Vairi nodded, agreeing not to magic all over Sera… whatever that meant. Was this going well? She couldn't tell. It felt like it wasn't. Vairi felt the need to leave. Intensely felt it. Immediately.

"It was nice to meet you but I have… I need to go… do some magic…?" 

It was a terrible excuse, but Vairi stood up and made for the door anyway.

Sera looked at her, confused. "Wait, what about your drink?" 

"You can have it!" Vairi left and closed the door behind her.

Sera shrugged, turning back around. She took a swig of Vairi's wine, and winced. Frig, it was sour.


	2. Make Me a Bird of Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vairi settles into the Inquisition and goes on her first mission with the party: travel to Redcliffe to recruit the rebel mages.

Adaar approached the training fields, pulling up their leather gloves. They passed Cullen, engrossed in a document. He held a report in his hand and was heading towards the gates at a pace too quickly for a man not paying attention. Coming from the other direction was Vairi, struggling to keep a pile of potions from falling out of her hands. A collision course.

Adaar stepped forward. "Wait-"

It was too late. Vairi and Cullen collided, with the elf losing her balance instantly to the tall, armored bulwark that was Cullen. Vairi’s potions scattered in the snow while she landed on her rear.

Cullen blinked, just noticing what happened. "Maker's breath, are you all right?" he said, offering his hand to Vairi. 

Vairi stared at his gloved hand, then traced her eyes up his arm to Cullen’s face. She gasped, and shifted into a kestrel. She was on the wing in an instant, sailing over the outer wall.

Cullen stared after her, then looked down at the potions. He scratched the back of his neck. "Well… that was an experience."

Adaar approached him and gathered up the potions. "I take it that was your first interaction with Vairi?" 

"Indeed," he said, helping the Herald. "I have heard of her. She's an apostate, yes? I suppose that would explain why she's… _concerned_ about being near me."

"Well that's completely out of the ordinary. You're so warm and fuzzy after all," Adaar quipped.

"Funny," Cullen said flatly. He scowled. "I wish she would know I have no quarrel with her, but I doubt I'd get a word in. No matter… was there something you needed?" 

They started a conversation about troops, or swords, or something. Vairi had been eavesdropping, from the comfort of a nearby pine tree. She was blissfully unaware of however this army business worked, and was fine with it staying that way. Vairi waited in the trees for the conversation to end so she could work out of sight of the Templars: former or current. 

She shuddered her feathers. _That was close_. Her little bird-heart was beating furiously. Vairi had kept that possible danger of Cullen at the forefront of her mind, and yet he had offered his hand to her. She wasn't sure what that meant to the humans. Probably best to avoid him, still. Even if he wouldn’t try to Templar her, Vairi had not forgotten her abysmal trip to the tavern and speaking to Sera. As they were now, her social skill set was not equipped to deal with that man.

Vairi hushed her own thoughts. Adaar was approaching the tree, holding the dropped potions. 

“You don’t have to hide like that, you know.” Adaar chastised.

Vairi transformed back, standing in front of the Qunari. “I suppose it’s starting to work less, since you’re able to find me just like that.”

Adaar handed the elf the potions. They were able to hold three in each hand while Vairi had hardly been able to keep them all secure in her arms.

“Thank you, Herald.” Vairi attempted a small bow but only succeeded in barely lowering her head. She headed once again towards her destination: a wispy Chantry healer. But Adaar stopped Vairi with a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to Redcliffe to meet the rebel mages,” they said. “I’d like you to come with me.”

Vairi’s eyes widened. Her first mission. Creators, this was it. Going to walk into danger with the forces of the Inquisition. 

“... does that work for you?” Adaar followed up after Vairi’s long, stunned silence.

“Oh! Yes, of course. I’ll be glad to.” Vairi’s ears went hot again.

The Qunari smiled. “Good. Meet outside the Chantry before noon. We leave then,” they said, then turned on their heel to attend other matters.

  
Cullen clenched his jaw as he watched Mullins lose his grip on his weapon in the middle of a parry. Maker. That was the third time in a row.

"Stop thinking," Cullen shouted at him. "Trust in your arm."

"But I'm not thinking, Commander," Mullins shouted, readjusting his crooked helmet. 

Cullen frowned. "Well, then start thinking. Don't let up your grip on the hilt."

The Commander watched as Mullins attempted the parry again. Mullins was a fool. So many like him had come to Cullen, green and armed with good intentions. For all their fire in their hearts, they were still young and still fools; completely lacking in fear or understanding of the gravity of this situation.

And there were yet others who carried an abundance of fear. Some of the smaller recruits, the younger ones. More fragile, wiry types who were afraid to get hurt. And the elf - the shapeshifter - who quite literally had the fright of a wild animal in her. He saw it in her yellow eyes, just before she… changed. Complete terror upon looking at him. She knew he used to be a Templar.

She was Dalish. Possibly the only Dalish mage in the Inquisition. He wouldn't be surprised if she were told frightful tales of Templars and the way they treated Circle mages. Cullen sighed. He couldn't even argue that they would be unfounded, not with the horrors that had unfolded. Not after Kirkwall.

Just that morning he had to break up a mob of mages and Templars that threatened to dissolve into fighting. That Templar had called him "Knight-Captain."

 _That's not my title._ He repeated to himself, just as he had told the crowd. _Not anymore_. Cullen knew it as well as he knew anything that he wasn't part of the Order. He had no sword on his chest, no tower, no Knight-Commander to answer to any longer. Yet he was marked. Tethered to the Templars still. He felt it in the growing ache in his stomach. It was noon. It was almost time for the philter. When he'd recede into his tent and drink from the blue: his last remaining shame.

Vairi’s first mission. Oh, Creators, this was it. It was happening. Traveling with Adaar, and others she hadn't met. Perhaps Solas would be coming. That would make it a little less daunting.

Vairi walked up to the Chantry. Solas wasn’t there. It was Adaar, the Grey Warden, and the Circle mage. 

“I don’t think you’ve met,” Adaar said. “Vairi, this is Warden Blackwall.”

Blackwall gave Vairi a polite nod. “Good to meet you."

"Thank you, you as well." 

"And Vairi, this is Vivienne de Fer." 

Vivienne de Fer looked her over with a critical eye masked by a serene, false smile. “Pleased to meet you, darling.”

Vairi couldn’t summon any enthusiasm to match Vivienne’s energy. “You too,” she attempted.

Adaar clapped her gloved hands together, with vigor. “Let’s get on the move.”

"So, Vairi," Vivienne said as they took the road out of Haven. "Is it true you were cast out by your clan?" 

Vairi's blood ran cold. "How would you ever think of that?"

"I know you don't have your tattoos. And that you're a mage," Vivienne deduced. "The Dalish send their children out on their own when there are too many mages; that's not a secret."

Vairi narrowed her eyes. What was she doing? "You're… trying to get me to say a Circle would be better?"

"Well it _would_ be, darling."

"You think they would take me, someone who can _turn into animals_ , and not give me death or Tranquility immediately?" Vairi spat. "Take your Circle rubbish somewhere else."

 _Ugh, now I'm starting to sound like Solas,_ Vairi shuddered. But maybe he was right, sometimes. 

"Stop it. I will turn this party around," Adaar threatened, "unless you two can play nice."

"Oh, darling. I'm always nice," Vivienne's voice dripped with over-sweet honey.

Vairi clenched her jaw. This was going to be a long walk.

However many miles later, and it was a long walk. Her legs were already sore after a few hours. Vairi had vastly underestimated how much walking in this much time they’d be doing, with a set destination in everyone’s heads. Redcliffe. The rebel mages. Fiona. 

This wasn’t like the months she spent with Solas, meandering across the continent. Their slow pace had made her feel calm and comfortable enough to stay in her elf form for longer periods of time, rather than hiding as a kestrel or as a halla. After all, she and Solas were two mages of no small talent, and with their combined knowledge, they were able to defend themselves from any possible threats.

Solas and Vairi’s wanderings didn’t have any direct purpose but to wander. Roving through woods and mountains. Solas dreaming in ruins under Vairi’s watchful halla eyes; she stood vigilant for any threat that might befall them, ready to wake Solas at a moment's notice. Sometimes Vairi would sail on the winds above him, flying over the trees and searching for anywhere interesting they might go. Sometimes they just talked; about the Fade, or spirits, or the Dalish. Vairi tried not to talk about the Dalish too much.

But here she was, wearing a badge on a sash down her chest, a part of something else. Something that walked very fast and rough. She was developing a blister on her right heel.

 _At least Adaar and Blackwall are chatting_ , she thought. They walked close together up at the front. Blackwall was a burly man, but even he looked smaller next to Adaar’s broad shoulders and over six-foot frame. It looked like Adaar was telling a story, and Blackwall watched them gesture and wave their arms, hanging on to each movement. He then let out a hearty laugh, one that came from all the way down in his belly. Vairi smiled. _If Adaar can make friends as a ‘fearsome Qunari’ perhaps it won’t be too hard for me._

Vairi turned to look at Vivienne and hid a frown. _Though, perhaps, not with everyone_. Vairi had no idea Circle mages were this pompous. She hoped the rebels were the exact opposite, though she supposed they must be. Why Adaar wanted to take a Circle loyalist to parley with rebels, Vairi had no idea.

But the party reached Redcliffe soon enough. As well as a rift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some language-nerd thoughts I had, for any other language nerds like me :)
> 
> I thought I'd share that I love the "Dalish" dialect and how the Dalish seem to correspond to various Celtic-descended people on the British Isles. Gareth David-Lloyd and Eve Myles, Solas and Merrill respectively, are both Welsh. I know there's still RP-sounding Dalish and ancient elves like Abelas and Inq. Lavellan, though it's my personal headcanon that the Dalish would have the "Celtic" (Scottish/Irish/ or Welsh, etc) accents because of their general aesthetic and being conquered peoples. Fereldans of course have an English dialect, with the upper classes speaking more RP. Sera has a very London-Cockney accent, which I guess implies that the lower classes and the elves in the Alienages speak in that dialect (as opposed to Northern American like they did in Origins).
> 
> When I write her dialogue and I'm reading it over, I imagine Vairi having a Scottish dialect; something like Karen Gillan's gorgeous Inverness dialect. Her video that she did with Vogue offers a nice continuous stream of her natural accent and it's one of my favorite things.
> 
> I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on this, I'm a speech-and-language grad student and accents and dialects are one of my interests. Hope you enjoyed :)


	3. Do They Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vairi continues on the mission to recruit the rebel mages.

It wasn’t Vairi’s first rift; she had fought through a few with Solas after the Conclave explosion. It was before they knew how to close them, and Solas had been trying with all his might to seal the demons back into the Fade. Solas and Vairi eventually had to settle with fighting off the demons and running away before the next wave came out.

This one was different, though… a strange, tingling feeling arose at the back of her neck. Vairi watched a rage demon cross the field of battle to attack Blackwall, but for a few seconds it seemed to slow. A shade on Adaar’s left flank seemed to swipe its claws at them even quicker than usual. Vairi frantically poured more energy into Adaar’s barrier. The group made quick work of the demons, and Adaar closed the rift with a flick of their hand.

Once the green Fade energy receded, Adaar turned to the others. “What… was that?”

A few feet away, Vivienne frowned. Blackwall wiped ichor off his longsword with a rag. “I don’t know. Was that a new kind of Rift? How many of them are there?”

Vairi’s brow furrowed. “The rift was altering time around itself, somehow.

Adaar shook their head. “Something isn’t right here. Stay on your guard.”

Much stranger workings were afoot. Not only was time magic at work, but a Tevinter magister had somehow ousted Arl Teagan from his seat. Grand Enchanter Fiona had pledged her mages to the Imperium as a last-ditch effort to gain allies for the war. They met with this Magister Alexius at Redcliffe’s tavern. No one trusted him for even a second.

Then, the note. Alexius’s son, Felix. Adaar didn’t trust him yet either, but they needed to know what was happening. Adaar, ever wary, wanted to send their new scout ahead to scope out a possible threat at their rendezvous point.

The party approached the large wooden Chantry doors. Adaar turned to Vairi. “Is it a trap? Can you see if anyone else is there with Felix?”

Vairi nodded and transformed into a kestrel. She flew upwards, perching on a nearby tree to look through one of the stained glass windows.

A man was inside: a mage. And a rift. And quite a few demons.

Vairi squawked and landed near Adaar, shifting back. “There’s a rift in there! Felix isn’t there but someone needs help!”

Adaar burst through the Chantry doors, roaring and swinging their greatsword at the nearest demon. Blackwall charged ahead, drawing the demons attention from the mage. Blackwall bashed it with his shield, sending it recoiling. Vivienne went to work shooting ice bolts at both, alternating. And Vairi went to work on the barriers, with a steadier hand this time.

Adaar closed a rift for the second time today. Vairi had wondered if the action was tiring, but apparently not.

Vairi got a better look at this man. He wasn’t Felix; the sheer differences in facial hair told her that immediately. This man approached Adaar, his eyes glued to their mark.

“Fascinating.” He got closer, and Adaar raised their weapon slightly. The man recoiled, offended. “Calm yourself, I’m not here to hurt you. If I was, I could have just let all those demons eat you up.”

Adaar narrowed their eyes. “Who are you?”

“Ah. How rude of me,” He cleared his throat. “I am Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do, Ser Adaar?”

The Herald looked disarmed by his politeness as he bowed. Vivienne wrinkled her nose. “Let one Tevinter in, suddenly they’re scurrying out of the walls like cockroaches.”

Dorian feigned hurt, clutching imaginary pearls. “Now now, I’m ever so much more handsome than a cockroach.”

Blackwall looked upon him with distrust, and Vivienne with outright disdain. Adaar crossed their arms.

What happened next could have made anyone's head spin. Magisters in cults, time magic, all revolving around this Elder One. Events unraveled one after the other yet again. The return to Haven. The plan to infiltrate the castle borne from Blight veteran knowledge; Leliana’s clever memory. Vairi smirking as Adaar elected to leave Vivienne behind in favor of Dorian before they headed back to Redcliffe. Dorian’s mustache. And it all led to the throne room of Redcliffe Castle, where it was said that ten years ago the King and Queen had un-abominated an abomination. The rumors had been unconfirmed, or at least, that was what Vairi had overheard the Chantry sisters gossiping about.

But in the place of the Arl, there was a Magister. A terrifying man, speaking of mages becoming Gods and reversing death for his son. For a moment, Vairi thought she could see the shades changing, of Alexius speaking not as a deranged cultist but as a father. He was afraid. But only for a moment.

“You are a mistake,” Alexius hissed, conjuring an amulet and a hazy blue aura around it, “Who should  _ never _ have existed.”

“ _ No! _ ” Dorian shouted. 

Vairi yelped as the Herald and Dorian were swallowed up by the swirling portal. She met Blackwall’s eyes and shared a terrified look as the entire room went silent. Vairi looked at Felix. He looked disappointed, but not surprised at all. He shook his head as his father’s nostrils flared and a grin formed on his face.

Blackwall’s eyes narrowed. He rushed Alexius and grabbed him by his robes. “What did you do to the Herald?”

Alexius said nothing. He chuckled, darkly. He was so certain that he had just won.

But just then, a stirring in the air where the portal had been. Blackwall let go of Alexius and drew his sword. Vairi readied her hands, barrier magic crackling over her fingers.

Dorian and Adaar reappeared, alive, looking a bit worse for wear than they just had before. But  _ Creators _ , they were alive.

Dorian smirked. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

Alexius’s face dropped, and he fell to his knees. Adaar stood over him, fixing him with a look that could curdle milk.

“You failed. Some frightening Tevinter magister you are. How forgiving  _ is _ your Elder One, exactly?”

Alexius hung his head. “You won. There’s no point in extending this charade. Felix…”

“It’s going to be all right, father.”

“You will die,” Alexius said, more resignation in his voice than anyone had heard so far.

“Everyone dies.”

Inquisition soldiers came upon Alexius, detaining him for the trip back to Skyhold.

Dorian sighed. “Well, I’m glad that’s over with!”

Fereldan troops burst into the doors of Redcliffe Castle. They snapped to attention.

Two humans entered the hall, a woman and a man. They were both clad in fine furs, the image of Fereldan nobility.

The man addressed Fiona with a clipped tone. “Grand Enchanter. Imagine how surprised we were to learn you’d given Redcliffe Castle away to a Tevinter magister.”

Fiona bowed. “King Alistair. Queen Blair.”

Vairi gasped. The monarchs of Ferelden. The Wardens who ended the Blight over ten years ago. She had never even known what they looked like.

Queen Blair crossed her arms and fixed Fiona with a steely glare. “I distinctly remember that Redcliffe belongs to Arl Teagan…” she looked at the King, taking on a sardonic tone, “don’t you, my lord?”

“Your majesties, I assure you, I never intended--” Fiona floundered.

“Once one sells out an Arling to a  _ Tevinter magister _ , I should think good intentions are no longer enough.” Blair retorted. 

“You and your followers have worn out your welcome.” Alistair decreed, raising his voice to echo in the hall. “You are to leave Ferelden at once, or we will make you leave.”

“We have hundreds who need protection,” Fiona said. “Where shall we go?”

Adaar stepped forward. “You’ll be leaving here with the Inquisition.”

Fiona narrowed her eyes. “And what are the terms of this arrangement?”

“Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you.” Dorian’s face turned serious. “The Inquisition  _ is _ better than that, yes?”

Indeed it was. Adaar shocked everyone when they declared that the rebel mages would work with the Inquisition as allies. Equals. Adaar would close the Breach with the mages at their side, now below them. Not without many tut-tuts from Vivienne, Vairi supposed, but Adaar didn't seem to give one whit. 

On the road back from Redcliffe with Dorian in tow, Vairi broke into a short run to catch up to Adaar at the front. She asked Adaar why they would trust the mages so much when they weren't one. 

"I've known mages who were better people than I," Adaar said. "Stronger. Some were  _ Saarebas _ who had escaped from the Qun and were lucky their mouths weren't sewn shut, to tell the horrors they experienced. Others were Vashoth, those who never knew the Qun, like me. They were lifelong apostates. Not unlike you, Vairi." Adaar gave Vairi a friendly nudge with their arm. "Who am I to question the strength of such a person? Mages in the Valo-Kas kept  _ themselves _ safe. And they had us, their friends. If the unthinkable happened, we would do what we had to. Out of respect, not fear."

"Wow," was all Vairi could say. "I see why people all want to listen to you."

Adaar chuckled.

"But," Vairi said. "I am glad you see potential in the mages. That they deserve better."

Those words came easier to her than they had before. Vairi could feel herself getting slightly more comfortable around others, even if it was inch by inch. She smiled, only a little, as they began to feel the snow underfoot. They were entering the Frostbacks.

Someone clapped Vairi on the shoulder, making her stumble and almost fall. It was Dorian, and he looked just as surprised that she was knocked off balance. He quickly forgot about that expression, however, and put on a friendly smile.

“So, Vairi, is it?” Dorian said. “I suppose we haven’t been properly acquainted.”

Vairi nodded. “Good to meet you, Dorian.”

“Now, you must be Dalish; that has to explain your unique shapeshifting abilities,” Dorian theorized. “I haven’t met any Dalish before, so now’s your chance to correct me should I be horribly wrong.”

“I am Dalish. I have no tattoos,” Vairi prefaced, because that seemed to be the question everyone else wanted to ask, “... because of a personal reason.”  _ That might be a good enough answer. It was at least short enough _ .

“Ah,” Dorian nodded. “So this shapeshifting magic  _ is  _ taught only between the Dalish elves?”

“No,” Vairi shook her head. She realized she had neglected his other question. “I don’t actually have a good explanation for these powers. I’m sorry.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “You mean you didn’t learn shapeshifting on purpose? You woke up one day, and  _ ‘poof,’ _ bird?”

Vairi tugged at the sash that was fashioned around her robes. No feathers to preen through when she got uncomfortable. “Well, that  _ is _ basically what happened.” 

There was silence for a moment, as they walked together. Vairi didn’t understand why until she looked at Dorian, whose eyes were wide. He waited for an explanation.

“That’s it, I swear,” Vairi promised. “I fell down in the woods, lost consciousness, and when I woke up I was a bird. I don’t remember learning to do it, or who, if anyone, taught me.”

“So you…” Dorian spluttered, attempting a few more beginnings before starting over. “You never asked about it?”

“Who was I going to ask?” Vairi retorted. Pressure built inside her stomach. “My clan thought I had been cursed, and abandoned me as soon as I turned sixteen.”

Everything seemed to get quiet after that; even Adaar and Blackwall had stopped their conversation ahead. Vairi regretted blurting it out all of a sudden like that. She hadn’t been pressed like that before.

“I apologize.” Dorian’s voice was soft. 

He averted his eyes. Vairi thought he might have regretted pushing her on the subject. Dorian waited until he heard Adaar and Blackwall start talking again.

“It’s no consolation, but my family,” he paused for a moment, searching for words, “they didn’t want me around, either.”

Vairi blinked. “But you’re so comely and talented,” she blurted. She immediately regretted it. She meant it as a fact, that he  _ was _ a handsome man, but she didn’t mean it like  _ that _ . Oh, Creators.

“This is true,” Dorian said, not missing a beat and thankfully not taking it in the wrong way. Vairi sighed in relief. “And the same could be said of you. But that isn’t the point. People like you and I are not to be blamed for what our families wouldn’t give.” 

Vairi hadn’t thought of it that way. She hadn’t thought much of why she  _ shouldn’t _ need her family, only about why she did need them. Why she had been cast out when they were supposed to let her stay and love her. It was surely something to think about.

“Do keep this between us,” Dorian said, his voice threaded through with confidence again. “I have a reputation to uphold, even though I make exceptions for delicately wild things in need of reassuring such as yourself.”

Vairi made her mouth into a straight, serious line, and nodded. Dorian chuckled, and Vairi lost her stony expression for a smile. A new friend, perhaps. And they were going to return and close the Breach. Maybe this would go better than she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the fantasy that our Warden-Queen Cousland could have appeared in Dragon Age: Inquisition at Alistair's side.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's read, bookmarked, and left kudos! This is my first time ever posting my writing and having readers is so appreciated.


	4. Cover Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: After successfully helping the Herald recruit the rebel mages, Vairi suspected closing the Breach was going to go smoothly. It did not.

_ Creators save me. Oh, Mythal enaste. Shit, shit, shit, shit. _

Curses and prayers bounced around in Vairi's head. She crouched over Adaar's broken body. The tent was small, cramped. It was quiet. The Frostback Mountains snow swallowed up so much sound.

Adaar needed Vairi’s help. The Commander and Sister Nightingale had carried them out of the snow after they collapsed at the borders of the camp. No one knew how they had made it all the way from Haven, but here they were, breathing shallow, almost frozen solid. Unconscious. Pale, more ashen gray than the usual taupe-gray their skin was. Their mouth was cracked and raw, with dried blood crusted along the seam of their lips. Dirthamen only knew how long they'd been walking in the mountains,  _ up _ the mountains, in this terrible storm and snow, already having been tossed around like a hare in the mouth of a wolf. Vairi saw external wounds, but there was no way Adaar’s insides made it out of this all right, either. Luckily, the cold had slowed their heartbeat enough that they had minimal blood loss. Vairi’s own heartbeat rushed inside her ears. She reached out with a hand cloaked in magic, searching inside Adaar’s body for the damage.

Creators, the damage. Bruised lungs, cracked ribs. Their spine had been strained by multiple falls. Nothing wasn’t inflamed. It needed deep spellwork. Vairi was already exhausted from fleeing Corypheus and climbing up the Frostbacks. But she had enough energy to heal Adaar. She had to.

Vairi took a deep breath and laid her hands on Adaar’s torso. Closing her eyes, she concentrated the energy and focused it deeper. It was like reaching down, feeling the roots of a tall tree that was split in half by lightning. If you could bring the energy back to that tree. Reaching down, coaxing light back into it. Soothing, mending. Working her way from the deepest roots to the ones on the surface. Reducing the inflammation inside Adaar’s body, invisibly fusing the broken bones together. Vairi poured what was left of her energy down through her hands. Adaar let out a sigh and began to take deeper breaths.

Vairi let out a deep sigh as well as she closed off the spell. Her world spun; black spots appeared at the corners of her vision. But she would need to brace Adaar’s torso. Though Vairi’s work healed broken bones, they were fragile and weak for a while still. _Where were the trees, to find the branches to make the supports? No damned plants in these mountains, just snow. Blasted snow, Fen’harel take the snow. What could she use here to make a--_

"Here, child," a smooth voice said. 

Vairi had hardly noticed the Chantry mother who had come in to pray over the Herald. But she wasn't here just to pray. Mother Giselle was here to give her aid. She had fetched a brace from one of the healers’ carts they had managed to save. A Chantry mother and an elven apostate working together.

Wordlessly the two coordinated their motions to lift Adaar's body to fit the brace under it. It wasn’t easy; Adaar was solid, even for a Qunari. When the healers would need to close the brace after their other wounds were healed, it would be snug, but functional. The brace had been meant for a human or an elf.

Vairi’s arms felt like lead when she set Adaar back down.. Mother Giselle went to work stitching the external wounds closed. 

“Go rest, young one,” she said, without looking up from her needlework. “You need it.”

Vairi shook her head, searching for words. She sat on her heels on the ground, not wanting to try getting up just yet. She was developing a pounding headache. “I-”

Someone opened the tent flap. The Commander stood in the entryway, with the candles lighting his armor and a flurry of snowflakes on the dark sky behind him. His face was usually so serious. But he was concerned, and it softened his features slightly. Vairi found it hard to look away from him as the light caught on his hair. She was too tired to be afraid.

He looked at Mother Giselle working on the Herald. Color was beginning to come back to their face. Then he looked back at Vairi on the ground. “You saved Adaar?”

Vairi blinked, parsing the words slowly. She nodded silently.

The Commander let out a sigh of relief. “Then we owe you a great debt.”

Vairi didn’t know what to say. She began to stand, wanting to take Mother Giselle’s advice about getting some rest. The Commander offered a hand to her. Without thinking, she took it.

She stumbled a little as a bout of dizziness and nausea overtook her. The Commander steadied her with gloved hands on her shoulders. He searched for her eyes, and he and Vairi made the briefest of eye contact. Her heartbeat fluttered at the state she was in: this man so close, his hands on her shoulders, and the split second their eyes locked. He was taller than her. He still looked concerned even as she broke away from him, wordlessly ambling out of the tent.

Vairi found her way to an empty bedroll by the fire. She usually preferred sleeping as a halla, her other form. It was comfortable, and warm with white fur. But at this point she was too tired to even think about doing magic. She climbed under the bedroll’s furs, grateful for their warmth. She had lost her tattered coat in the battle when a Red Templar tore it apart while trying to drag her to him. Vairi closed her eyes.

Every part of her body wanted sleep, but not her accursed mind. All she could think about was the disaster at Haven.

It had started out so well. After the Breach closed, everyone was celebrating. Sera had even brought Vairi a drink; not wine. Vairi had asked her what it was made out of, and she started to say something like apples or pears but then the bell started to ring. Lights on the mountains started coming down, and then everything went straight to hell.

Vairi won’t forget the way Adaar screamed for them to go once the Archdemon landed. Vairi hadn’t ever heard anyone scream like that before. She was frozen. Blackwall kept trying to run towards Adaar. He didn’t want to leave them. Solas was trying to hold him back, but he was very strong. Vairi had to help drag Blackwall away, even though she didn’t want to leave Adaar just as much as he did. The sting of leaving someone behind, even when bid to, had ebbed slightly now that Vairi had been able to save Adaar. They were safe.

But the worst of it had been even before that.

Adaar had separated Vairi from the group to help the townspeople. She saved Flissa just before the tavern went up in flames. She even got Adan away from the exploding pots. But Minaeve. She didn’t have time to save her. Vairi had locked eyes with her before she died. Minaeve was Dalish once, too. They hadn’t talked much, but Vairi had known enough. If Vairi hadn’t been as careful, she’d have ended up in a Circle just like her. She could have  _ been _ her. Minaeve had been cast out and left to die just as Vairi had. And when Vairi watched her consumed by fire, Vairi felt like she was abandoning Minaeve, somehow. Vairi wouldn’t have had the time to save them both but she didn’t know that when she went to Adan. She swore she didn’t, but she didn’t believe herself. If she had done something different, if she had been faster. Stronger. Maybe Minaeve wouldn’t have died while Vairi looked right into her eyes, frozen.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and startled. Vairi gasped when she saw the young boy in the large hat above her.

“You’re the spirit?” Vairi asked. She blinked away tears.

“I’m Cole,” he said, not answering the question. “You can’t sleep because you think you did something wrong. But you didn’t.”

Vairi took a deep breath. It was plain that he was trying to help. What was he? Hope? She worried her feelings of anguish would only hurt him, pervert his form. Then they would have to fight again, and it would be her fault.

“I’m not like that,” he said. “I want to help.”

Vairi rubbed her eyes. They were so heavy, but they felt stretched thin, dry, and stinging. She did need to go to sleep, and perhaps this spirit’s helping would do the trick. “All right,” she said, “help me then.”

“You did what you could. You didn’t know you didn’t have time. If you didn’t do something they both would have died. You’re sad because you could have been her and she could have been you, but you’re you and she was her. And you’re here, now. And you should go to sleep,” he said.

Vairi let her eyes fall, blinking slowly closed. Soon she forgot all about the battle, and her tiredness, and even Cole. She was at peace, and she went to sleep.


	5. By the Frozen River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vairi settles into Skyhold and begins to notice something concerning about the Commander.

"Wake up,  _ da’shath _ ." 

Vairi groaned. She felt so heavy. Her mind was blank, dark, with how deeply she had slept. It was the kind of deep sleep where you almost forget what you’re supposed to be. 

She’d open her eyes and see Findis, the Second, standing over her. Vairi was always the last of the children to wake up, and she was always the one they had to wait for to begin their daily lesson. Findis would be cross. 

Vairi opened her eyes. It wasn’t Findis; not at all. It was Solas. And Vairi suddenly remembered where she was. How long ago she had been with her clan. She should have known she wasn’t back there. None in Clan Senriel would have called her “little wing” with any sort of affection, or positivity at all.

Solas patted her shoulder gently. “You gave much of yourself last night. You scarcely even moved in the Fade.”

Vairi started to speak , but her lips were dry and sticky. She had slept with her mouth open. She swallowed and began to stand up. “Did I miss anything?”

“The humans were singing,” Solas said. “I don’t know how you slept through it. It was… interesting. But otherwise, no.”

Vairi shook off some dusty snow from the bedroll, and rolled it up. “What are we going to do now?”

Solas walked with her to the supplies. Vairi loaded the bedroll onto the back of a very tired mule.

“I believe there is a place we can go. I found it in dreams last night,” Solas explained. “We will be safe there.”

Safe. What a word.

“Will we be safe anywhere? Now that this… this magister knows of us?” Vairi asked.

Solas frowned. “You are right. I should have said we will be more safe.”

A loud, barking voice cut through the air. Quartermaster Threnn waved her arms around, swearing at a bearded man who held the mule’s reins. She steered the group of caravans all in the same direction. The throng of soldiers, refugees, and pilgrims that was the Inquisition began to move north.

“The events of last night have worn on you.” Solas said matter-of-factly.

“Of course they did,” Vairi sighed. “Who else has seen anything like this? Have you? Outside your dreams?”

Solas’s expression hardened. “A valid point. Still, it seems like you received help.”

“Yes, Mother Giselle helped me heal Adaar.” 

“Before you went to sleep. Were you not aided?"

Vairi cocked her head. “I mean… I had trouble going to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. But then…” she wracked her brain to remember exactly how she had finally gotten to sleep. “I don’t know what happened. But I managed to get some rest.”

Solas cracked a smirk. “Ah. I believe I know what occurred.”

“What?”

“I helped,” said a voice right into her ear.

Vairi screeched and jumped back. A young man had --  _ appeared _ \-- right next to her.

“Cole is a spirit. I believe he is Compassion; a rare kind, and a rare sentiment.”

Vairi nodded, trying to understand this on top of everything else that had happened. She turned to the boy, who walked beside her and Solas. He paid no heed to her, or at least Vairi didn’t think he did. His large hat almost entirely hid his face. When he moved his head, it was to look at a passing rabbit or bird, or to watch a clump of snow fall off a tree branch and splat on the ground. His left hand was absentmindedly smacking his leg, rhythmically, as they walked.

Cole was absolutely harmless, is what Vairi decided. She had all but shed the suspicion of spirits that the Dalish pushed on her after a few years as an outcast. Traveling with Solas often meant becoming friends with spirits of all kinds… if you were in the right state of mind. Vairi imagined having one as an associate, one who joined the Inquisition, would be something else. Something interesting. _ In some strange way, _ Vairi thought,  _ it would probably be easier to make friends with Cole than with someone like Sera. _

“The wine was sour, and the words felt sour. But you didn’t know how to make them sweet,” Cole said.

Vairi blinked. He was talking about the time when she went to the tavern.  _ Of course he could hear thoughts. Spirit _ .

“It’s not your fault you don’t know how to make sweet words,” Cole said soberly. “You can keep trying.”

Vairi blushed. She felt heartened, all of a sudden, certain that she could make a place for herself here in the Inquisition.

A gray hand on her shoulder. “Vairi.”

Vairi looked up at Adaar, who had come up next to her. 

“How are you feeling?” Vairi asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cole vanish and reappear next to someone else in the throng. “Is the brace fitting?”

“It fits just fine. I understand you were responsible for treating my wounds last night.” Adaar said. “Thank you.”

Vairi smiled. “Of course, Adaar. That’s what I’m here for.”

They grinned, and gave Vairi a slap on the back. Vairi stumbled, but giggled.

~~~

Skyhold was… incredible to look at. Such a large structure, untouched, in the middle of the mountains. It was what Solas said he had seen in dreams. They sent Vairi ahead to figure out a way in, because there just  _ wasn’t _ one. She flew over the battlements, over the bridge and the gatehouse, feeling the cold mountain air under her wings. There weren’t tunnels underneath, either.

Whoever built it had to have gotten in somewhere. Surely they didn’t just  _ teleport _ ? Vairi would have to ask Solas about it. Knowing Solas, he would probably say that they actually did teleport. She circled back to where the Inquisition was in the frozen river valley.

Vairi had thought Adaar and the others would be disappointed when she told them the news about entering, but they weren’t. It seemed that everyone was so mystified by Skyhold's presence that they were willing to accept any information about it. 

Those who could climb up the mountain did. The Herald’s inner circle, and most of the scouts. The soldiers set up tents on the banks of the frozen river, and Josephine was already giving instructions to their workers to begin carving out a path up the mountain.

On the battlements, Vairi overheard the soldiers gushing about how well the walls were built and how protective they’d be, but Vairi didn’t want walls. Creators, she hadn’t even been inside a constructed building in her life until the Herald had taken her to Redcliffe. Being inside wasn’t her favorite thing, she discovered. Houses and keeps weren’t the same as aravels, which she remembered being cozy and warm. Stone walls just made her feel imposed on, and kept in.

Haven had had less walls. Even so, she usually stayed outside of them nearer to the woods. But you couldn’t just stay outside Skyhold, where nobody was. So she perched on the battlements above where they had set up the healers’ tents. Vairi also spent time in the area next to the barn, the one that had trees in it. She went there when she needed to feel the grass under her feet. Vairi had told Adaar -- now  _ Inquisitor  _ Adaar -- where she could be found.

Vairi could hear all manner of things when she was on the battlements. Especially when she was a kestrel. It had been easier to remain as a bird now that her coat was ruined in the battle. She didn’t quite know how to go about getting a new one just yet. It seemed that people didn’t fully understand that she could be a bird, and that she was fully able to understand others as a bird. Perhaps they simply didn’t care. Over the coming weeks, Vairi had gotten wind of who was doing who, what strange occurrences were happening around the keep (which she suspected were because of Cole) and what the suspicions were of the Inquisitor’s next move.

She didn’t care much for the gossip. But once, she had seen something that she still couldn’t quite get out of her mind.

Seeker Pentaghast and Commander Cullen came out of the Commander’s office, clearly in the middle of some serious matter.

“You doubt yourself, but I do not doubt you,” Cassandra said firmly. “The fact that we have now secured lyrium for the mages does not mean you should reconsider any part of this.”

Cullen shook his head. “And you tell me you have not noticed anything?”

“Nothing that has caused any concern.” Cassandra crossed her arms and spoke sincerely. “You must keep this promise to yourself.”

The Seeker walked away, having no more to say. The Commander started to walk in the other direction, towards the armory. Suddenly, he stumbled, and doubled over. He braced himself against the stone with one hand and gripped his stomach with the other. Vairi gasped. She had the thought of shifting back and going to him - he clearly needed help. But just as quickly, he righted himself with a groan and walked off.

Once he was gone, Vairi shifted back. She sat on the stone railing, puzzled. He was ailing, but how? It was the lyrium, but Vairi hadn't been taught anything about it. The Dalish didn't even use it hardly at all.

Vairi jumped off the railing and headed towards the rotunda and the library. She could ask Solas about it, and if he didn't know, surely the library would have something.

Vairi shifted and flew over to the Great Hall, shifting back once she was inside. Many workers were still restoring the structure, and scaffolding was all around. In the middle of all the chaos, though, Varric still stood next to a roaring hearth. He had a table set up for himself with books and coins strewn about as he was observing the mild chaos. He nodded as Vairi passed.

Someone tapped on her shoulder. Vairi turned around.

It wasn’t Varric; it was one of Ambassador Montilyet’s messengers, judging by their badge with a crossed key symbol.

“Mistress Senriel.” The messenger politely bowed her head.

Vairi blushed. “Oh… just Vairi is fine.”

“As you wish. Vairi, Ambassador Montilyet has requested to see you in her office.” The messenger tilted her head, beckoning Vairi to follow.

When they entered the office, Josephine stood up from her desk. “Oh, there you are! I’m so glad I caught you in your current form. How do you find Skyhold?”

“It’s… bracing.” Vairi said. “The battlements have incredible views.”

“Oh, don’t they? I find walking on them invigorating. When I have the time, that is.” Josephine motioned to the messenger, who went to a bureau in the corner. “I have something for you.”

Vairi’s ears went hot. “Oh, you didn’t have to--”

“I  _ wanted  _ to.” Josephine took a parcel from the servant, and unfolded it. She showed it to Vairi. “What do you think?”

The coat was beautiful. It was leather, not woven. The color was the same deep mossy green as her old one. The shape was entirely different, but that was because it  _ had  _ a shape. It cinched at the waist with a thin belt with a tortoiseshell buckle. And the shoulders. Creators, they were beautiful. Josephine had noticed Vairi's liking for small bits of brightly colored or interesting-feeling fabric, and they were represented here; cut into delicately shaped feathers and sewn onto the leather around her shoulders in a more artful pattern than Vairi could have imagined.

“The tailors were not sure about the feather appliques at first,” Josephine said, “but I asked them to use their most interesting scraps.”

Vairi took the coat, feeling the feathers between her two fingers and marveling at the workmanship. “I’m speechless. And a little surprised. I didn’t think you’d want to draw attention to my shapeshifting abilities.”

“We’re not trying to hide you,” Josephine explained. “To cultivate the Inquisition’s image, we should celebrate your unique identity and the gifts you have helped our cause with. Won’t you put it on?”

Vairi pulled the coat on. She could already feel the warmth it gave; much better than her yellow blouse alone. It fit perfectly, hugging her shoulders and her waist and fanned out at the hem, which hung just below her knees.

“I understand you’ll need to wear something more sturdy when you’re out in the field, and I told our armorer to expect you,” Josephine rambled. “Though, if you wish, this might be a piece to wear around Skyhold when you go about your business. It fits beautifully, that much is clear. I hope it’s warm enough… is it to your liking?”

Vairi couldn’t even say anything. She threw her arms around Josephine, eliciting a delighted yelp from the ambassador.

“Thank you,” Vairi said. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

Josephine giggled. “I’m so glad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the upcoming chapters will be between "From the Ashes" and "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts" though I switched around some story content that came from cutscenes after WEWH.


	6. All is Soft Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vairi discovers more about Cullen's mysterious illness.

Vairi strutted around Skyhold in her new coat; as much as any wild apostate was able to strut. She walked out of Josephine’s office into the Great Hall, navigating around the workers once again. The sound of people moving, construction, and barking foremen echoed around the high ceilings, bounding into her ears. The sounds of industry: human and dwarven noises, not elven and certainly not apostate. So unfamiliar yet still.

“Whoa, nice coat, Feathers,” Varric raised his voice above the din as she passed. “Let me guess. Vivienne found it in her iron heart to graciously pick you up as a charity case?”

Vairi resisted frowning at the mention of Vivienne. “No, Josephine sent away for it. I don’t really know how she knew my measurements, but I’m very fond of it all the same.”

“Probably got the information from Leliana. Don’t ask me how, but she probably knew everyone’s measurements five minutes before they even signed up.” Varric chuckled. “But don’t let me keep you. See you around.”

Vairi opened the door to Solas’ rotunda. He was sitting in the middle of the room at his desk, which was already piled high with books, stray pieces of parchment, and one or two glowing runes. 

"Hello,  _ lethallan _ ." Solas looked up from his book.

" _ Aneth ara _ ," Vairi said, then turning. "Hello Cole." 

Cole was on the scaffolding, inspecting a small element of Solas' mural. His nose was up against the very paint. Vairi couldn’t see his face, but she knew somehow that Cole was frowning. “It doesn’t move,” he said, disappointed.

“What do you mean?” Vairi asked.

“In the Fade, you could make it move around. It wasn’t a picture, it was a point, a moment.”

Suddenly, Vairi felt a bit disappointed as well, for his sake.

Solas stood from his desk, addressing Vairi. “What brings you here?”

Vairi suddenly remembered why she  _ had _ come there. Despite the shiny new coat, she had been disconcerted at what she saw that morning on the battlements. The conversation between Seeker Pentaghast and Commander Cullen was meant to stay between them, and yet she couldn’t ignore the fact that the Commander was so staunch in hiding his pain. Not even he knew that she knew. But that fact made her feel slightly rotten; that is, unless she helped.

“I’m looking for some reading,” she said, “about the Templars.”

Solas cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting… I have some notes on them here that I compiled from my journeys in the Fade. May I ask why?”

He handed Vairi a stack of papers that was bound together by twine going through holes in the side. Solas had etched designs into the makeshift cover page; Vairi studied the surprisingly intricate Chantry sunbursts and the flaming swords.

“I’m just curious,” Vairi explained. “We’re around so many, but I don’t actually know anything about them.”

Vairi made the split second decision that she couldn’t tell Solas why she was investigating this; not until she fully understood what was happening.

Solas frowned slightly. “I see.”

_ Fenedhis,  _ Vairi cursed internally. Solas knew she was guarding herself. At his study table, he had only one chair. Vairi pushed aside a stack of books and sat on top of the table, huffing as she opened the note pages. She rifled through, scanning for the word “lyrium.” At last, she found an entry.

_ 8 August: Dreamt of an old Chantry mother who spent her life shepherding a flock of Templar trainees. She had spent her whole life in the Orlesian barracks, watching these young men and women commit themselves to the Maker. Too often she heard back that they had been killed by an abomination or an apostate that took them by surprise. _ _   
_ _ She said the words as she always had, waving her hands over the young person of the week. The boy had just finished his Vigil. He was exhausted, but proud, like they always were. This one had black hair and green eyes. He would have been a catch for any young girl in his village, surely, but he was here now, forfeiting all of it. Maker bless him. _ __   
_ As she spoke the words, he took his first sip of the lyrium draught. His eyes widened like all the others had before. He felt the power it gave him. It all made sense to him at that moment, but he had no idea how much it didn’t. He didn’t know about the elderly Templars who returned to these barracks with their minds half-gone. He never heard the tales whispered at night, that those who ran away and went without lyrium endured pain like they had never imagined. _ _   
_ __ ‘They are willing to make sacrifices for the Maker and for the safety of everyone. We all must make these sacrifices,’ the Mother thought to herself. ‘He simply does not know the amount of himself he will have to give away.’

Underneath, Solas’s notes on the dream in a more scrawled hand. 

_ For these Templars, the Chantry plants an addiction that begins in the soul, and, with lyrium, moves to the body; thus the leash is spread too to their charges, the mages. _

_ All of this is born out of fear-- _

"He hurts," Cole burst out. 

Solas and Vairi both looked up at Cole. He jumped down from Solas’s scaffolding. 

"He needs it but he doesn’t want it. He can’t swallow it anymore. His head pounds, echoes, the memories clanging and banging like the suits of armor falling to the ground in the broken circle. Ask the healers? No. They'd never. Not the Chantry sisters. Could never face them, never ask them," Cole finished. He got up and left.

Solas quirked an eyebrow as Cole vanished. "Curious," he said through the gray vapor. "An unusual storm of emotions." He returned to his reading.

Vairi hummed in agreement. Her hands lay idle on the pages, her eyes distant and staring at one of the murals. 

That must have been Commander Cullen that Cole was hearing. It had to be. He was ill from not taking the lyrium, and Cole could hear his thoughts wailing. Not taking the lyrium and his painful memories were linked, somehow, but why? If he couldn't outright ask a healer to help, perhaps she should--

"Something on your mind,  _ lethallan _ ?" Solas asked. He must have noticed her lost in thought.

"Just… reflecting on Cole. To heal someone's inner self is a gift," she half-lied. It wasn't what she was thinking about at that moment, but it was something she had thought about. Sometimes. So it wasn't a total lie. 

"I see. Envious of his capacity to heal in a facet that's beyond your reach?"

"In a way," Vairi said, tight-lipped. 

She put her nose back in the pages, hoping to avoid further conversation. Entertaining the idea that she'd willingly speak to someone like Cullen, to offer herself in that way, sounded ridiculous. She could barely think to speak it to Solas, for fear of him chiding her for being immature or reckless. Suddenly Vairi felt a stale sensation of bitterness, radiating up from her stomach.

“I should go,” Vairi said, standing up quickly. She couldn’t think straight about this in Solas’s presence, not with the huge room and all that space between them bearing down on her.

“Oh,” Solas said.

“Yes, I think Dorian needs something.” She shouted up into the library, “right, Dorian?”

Dorian poked his head over the railing.  _ “What?” _

“I’ll be right there!” Vairi shouted, then ran up the stairs. 

Her face felt warm, and her hands clammy as she hustled through the hallway into the library. Even with all his pedantry, Solas had been her first real friend after she had none. She didn’t like keeping secrets from him, but this was barely one. It was not even half a secret, not yet. She wasn’t even  _ doing  _ anything.

Vairi was short of breath when she came up to the stairs to face a very confused Dorian.

"What was that?" Dorian said. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine, I just needed to get away."

"Well, then you need to work on your lies. That was terrible. No,  _ shameful _ ."

Vairi tugged on her braid. "Yes, I know. I just felt uncomfortable and had to leave. I didn't want to sit there with Solas anymore." 

"Oh?" Dorian put a coy hand on the bookshelf, leaning against it. "Trouble in apostate paradise, is it?" 

Vairi narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what that means, but I know you're making fun of me, and now I'm upset."

"Oh, please." Dorian put his arm around her shoulders. "Now, you can tell Old Dorian what's got you bothered."

Vairi sighed. So she whispered to Dorian the whole story, albeit convolutedly, and with many hand motions. The conversation on the battlements. The notes from the Fade. Cole's narrations.

"Oh my," Dorian said. "Our dashing Commander has a bit more on his plate than we all suspected."

"I know," she said. "And I could help him. But I don't even want to ask.  _ Clearly _ I have a lot to learn about talking."

"Well, you can do this." Dorian stopped his train of thought and raised an eyebrow. "Can't you?" 

"Yes, I believe so," she told herself as much as she was telling Dorian. “I mean… yes. I  _ am _ a healer. And not a typical Chantry-taught healer, either.”

"What, are you waiting for someone's permission? Just go do it; you obviously wish to." Dorian waved his hand. 

Vairi blinked. She supposed she was waiting for someone to tell her it wasn't the craziest idea they'd ever heard. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

"Yes," she said. "I believe I will. I'm going to talk to him."

Vairi’s heart raced as she walked down the stairs, past Solas in the rotunda, and outside to the walkways leading to the Commander’s tower. Creators, all day long it felt like she was rushing, red-eared, from one place to another.  _ I can do this. I want to help. Cole wouldn’t be scared to help; he’s never scared. So why am I scared? I can do it.  _

She stopped in front of the office. This was his front door. The front door to a former Templar’s office. The  _ Commander’s  _ office. Vairi took a deep breath and put her hand on the metal handle.

Vairi pushed the door open. “Commander--”

_ “Rrragh! _ ”

A yell, and a box came flying at the door frame the moment she opened it. Vairi screamed. The box and its contents shattered, but Vairi didn’t even get the chance to see. She was already a kestrel and flying off. Past Adaar, who apparently had been behind Vairi the whole time.

“No, wait!” Cullen cried. He hadn’t seen anyone enter before the box was already out of his hand. He sighed.

Vairi flew as fast as her little wings would go. She reacted out of panic, but could she be blamed? Going into his domain wasn’t the most safe thing for a lifelong apostate to do, but flying boxes and screaming was the last thing she thought she’d deal with. Vairi flew up to one of the crumbling towers and perched on the top. She transformed back into an elf and sat with her legs swinging over the side.

She sighed, and then groaned in embarrassment. Vairi put her hands to her face and pulled. This was the second time she had flown away from this man. This time it  _ might _ have been warranted, what with the box, but now somehow she was more humiliated about the previous time at Haven.

Would every new relationship go like this? It wasn’t even this bad with Sera. Varric was friendly, like he was to everyone. Even the Iron Bull said he’d need to take her out drinking sometime. Dorian had somehow plowed right past Vairi’s nerves and doubts. Cole wasn’t difficult either, if you understood him. Vairi held her arms around herself, retreating inwards. She didn’t know how to do  _ anything. _

“Hello,” a man said tentatively.

It was the Commander, on one of the ruined tower’s lower floors. Vairi startled, and tried to stand up.

“No, no, don’t! Please.” He said. “I’m not here to hurt you. I swear it on my life.”

Vairi felt her heart rate begin to slow down. At the same time, Cullen noted her frantic eyes, her jerked movements. It really was like she was some creature; afraid, caught, but not running yet.

“Why are you so afraid of me?” Cullen asked. “Well, besides the box.”

The elf stared back at him, not taking her eyes away from his even for a moment. Cullen wondered if she’d speak to him at all. She did speak, didn’t she? Never to him, not even in the month since she’d joined.

“Why does it matter to you?” she said, finally.

Cullen scrambled to find a reason. He wasn’t entirely sure himself. “Because… well, I don’t know why. I just know that I’d rather you not be scared.”

Vairi sighed. She looked down at her hands for a moment, then quickly snapped her gaze back to Cullen. “I’ve never talked to a Templar before, you know. My Keeper said all they wanted was to snatch us mages up and take us far away from our family.”

“I’m not going to snatch--” Cullen interrupted himself. “I’m not a Templar.”

“The Iron Bull says you still carry your Templar-ness with you,” Vairi explained, “because he saw that you angle your shield down.”

Cullen looked away, thinking of Iron Bull’s astute observation. Templar techniques weren’t easy to unlearn, after all. Iron Bull wasn’t wrong, but Cullen wished he was. He frowned.

Vairi angled her head, squinting and studying Cullen’s face.

Then it dawned on her.

“You don’t want to feel like a Templar anymore. Of  _ course. _ ”

Vairi sighed. She had been tense, and now her shoulders were looser ever so slightly. 

“What do you mean, of course?”

Vairi ignored his question. “Am I wrong?”

A long pause. Then, Cullen sighed and said, “no.”

Vairi stood up. “I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“I’ve noticed that you’re unwell.” Vairi transformed into a bird and back to bring herself to the same floor as the Commander. She inspected his face, up close. “You’re withdrawing. You could be taking the lyrium, but you don’t because you don’t want to be  _ anything  _ like a Templar anymore.”

“How did you…” he narrowed his eyes.

“ _ Please _ don’t ask me to elaborate, it’s too long to explain. But I  _ am _ a healer. And I know I can help you get through this.”

Vairi took a deep breath. Now she could say what she had been thinking this entire time. She put out her right hand.

“Would you let me help you?”

Cullen took a step back. His breaths quickened. “I… I don’t even know you. I don’t know what to make of this. I need to leave.”

And then he walked away, leaving Vairi alone among the ruins.


	7. Between Two Lungs It Was Released

Vairi slammed her empty cup down on the bar. "And then he just…  _ walked off _ ." She gestured with her arms, flourishing as she reenacted the Commander's exit with her left hand. 

Vairi was drunk. It was her first time, Dorian thought. He was quite sure of it.

Cabot, behind the bar, looked Dorian straight in the eye. Then at Vairi's single empty tankard. Then at Dorian again, in a  _ get-a-load-of-this _ way. 

"Chin up," Dorian patted her on the shoulder. "Adaar still loves and appreciates your healing skills all the same, I'm sure. And we'll be in the field in no time, being swatted around by the monster of the day."

Vairi put her forehead to the wooden bar with a thump. "I  _ wish  _ I could go for another trek down the Storm Coast. Maybe then I could distract myself long enough to stop being embarrassed.”

On the other side, Iron Bull downed a tankard of ale in one go. He groaned, loudly. "When Dorian said you needed a drink, I didn't think this was how this night was gonna go," he grumbled.

Dorian shot him a glare as he gave Vairi another pat. Bull had six empty tankards in front of him and was still perfectly lucid. Vairi had one, and she was liable to start singing or bursting into tears at any moment. And Dorian had his own mug of mulled wine, but with barely a few sips.  _ Someone  _ out of the three of them had to be responsible. Tonight, regrettably, it was he.

Maryden, over by the hearth, closed out her latest song with a fanciful riff. The tavern erupted into applause. 

"Maybe Cassandra will glare at me  _ so hard _ that I forget all of my memories." Vairi's muffled voice said from the bar. "I think if she tried hard enough it would work."

Iron Bull guffawed. "I'd give anything to weaponize Cassandra's death glares."

"Nuuurgh," Vairi groaned, sitting back up. You know- you know what- you know what the worst thing is? Is that I have to just sit around and do nothing while he feels so…  _ shitty _ ."

"My word!" Dorian raised his hands in mock surprise. "Watch your language! Who taught you that word? Varric?" 

Maryden began another song. An opening chord, and then:

_ You know Andraste's old mabari _

_ He don't show up in the Chant… _

The tavern crowd erupted into applause again, more raucously this time.

"You're not even  _ listening _ , Dorian," Vairi pouted, "and I already knew how to swear!" She stood up from her stool, pushing it in with a tinily furious shove. "I'm going to sleep."

In a rush of magic, Vairi transformed into a kestrel and took off. She narrowly missed hitting the top of the doorway on her way out. The rowdy singing continued to swell. 

_ And there's Andraste's mabari _

_ By the Holy Prophet's side. _

_ In the fight against Tevinter, _

_ That dog would never hide. _

Dorian shook his head, thinking of both the Commander and the awkward apostate he had now somehow adopted. “Helpless, the two of them.”

Iron Bull scooted over to sit closer to Dorian. "You tried your best. Now, do  _ you  _ wanna sit around all night being sad?" 

Dorian chuckled. "No, I don't."

"Good! Now, drink up!" 

Dorian raised his mug. "With pleasure."  
  


~~~

  
Meanwhile, in Skyhold's armory, Cullen picked up and read the report on the new batch of weapons that were to be given to his men. Well, he tried to, over Cassandra's shouting.

“ _ Why _ would you turn away someone’s help like that?” she chided.

Cullen’s head throbbed. He tried intently to look at the table stocked with swords rather than Cassandra’s righteously furious gaze. 

“I don’t… I had never even heard her speak before! Am I supposed to just trust her outright?”

“Perhaps not.” Cassandra sighed. “But it is foolish to do what you did. If you came to me, I could have at least vouched for Vairi’s abilities and character. So can Adaar.”

Adaar poked their head around the corner in the forge, having just walked by and heard their name. “What am I doing, exactly?”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will not be fussed over like a sickly child.”

Cassandra ignored him. She addressed the Inquisitor. “Do you trust Vairi?”

“I do. She’s saved my ass more than a few times, including after Haven.” Adaar crossed their arms, fixing Cassandra with a steely gaze. 

Cassandra stared at Cullen, gesturing towards Adaar to emphasize what they said.

“Is there... something I can help with?” Adaar raised an eyebrow. 

Cullen waved his hand. “Please do not trouble yourself over this, Inquisitor. The matter is being settled.”

Adaar shrugged. They wandered over to another table and surveyed the greatswords. They took one and began to sharpen it with a whetstone before walking out. 

Cassandra shook her head after Adaar left. “Cullen, I urge you to go to her. You should have all the support that’s available to you.”

“You really think I should do this?” Cullen said, staring into the forge-fire. 

“I do.” Cassandra clapped his shoulder before walking away.  
  


~~~  
  


Vairi walked as a halla across Skyhold's grounds. Flying was too hard after having alcohol. In this form, she stumbled a bit over the puddles with her ivory hooves. It was still better than breaking a hollow wing-bone. Vairi shuddered. _ Never again _ .

She approached the tree next to the barn, her preferred sleeping place now that there was room. All the tents had been taken away last week. Vairi circled around herself and laid down. Her eyes closed so much easier than usual. The world was muffled, quiet, and she was heavy as she sunk into the soft grass.  
  


~~~

  
"Vairi?" 

Strange, that was the Commander's voice. No matter, she was probably dreaming. Vairi tried to settle her mind back down. 

His voice again. "Vairi?" 

At a soft touch on her head, Vairi blinked her black halla-eyes open. In front of her…  _ was  _ that Commander Cullen? She was still a little slow from waking up. She looked up at the moon; she had already slept a few hours. The Commander was still in his armor, though. Why was he awake so late? 

"Is that you?" he said. "Blackwall told me the halla was you, but at this point I think I've been tricked. Now I might just be talking to a regular animal, what a ridiculous--"

Vairi transformed back into an elf. Not standing, as usual, but sprawled out on the ground, with her head in the grass. She had slept off the meager two drinks she'd had, but now her mouth was sticky and she felt heavy. 

The Commander startled and stepped back. "Maker's breath! Oh, it is you."

Vairi's head hurt at being woken up. She groaned. "Do you need something, Commander Rutherford?"

Cullen swallowed. "I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight. There were lines on his forehead she could see even in the darkness. A midnight wind blew and goosebumps rose on Vairi's exposed arms.

She sat up on her bottom, confused. "You what?" 

"For turning you away." His voice was soft again, like it was in the ruined tower. "I do need your help. I should not have spurned it.”

"Oh… thanks." Vairi rubbed her eyes. It took her a moment to fully process what he said. “Wait, why did you change your mind?”

“Cassandra.” Cullen said, and that was all.

Vairi didn’t need any more explanation. She snorted. “Heh, that would do it… do you need my help right now?"

"Yes," Cullen said, a hand going to his temple. "Well, actually, no, I should let you get back to sleep. Good night-" 

He turned away. Vairi grabbed his wrist. Her pale fingers closed around his dark leather glove. She heard the Commander gasp. He turned, wide-eyed, to face her.

"Do you feel alright?" Vairi said, slowly.

She looked at him intently, begging him to be honest. The seconds of silence spent staring at each other felt like an eternity. Vairi kept her hand around Cullen's wrist, almost afraid to let go.

Cullen looked down, and sighed. "No."

Vairi stood up, brushing off her clothes. "Then let's go."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Go where?" 

"To your quarters…?" 

"My- my  _ quarters _ ?" The Commander grew red.

"Great Mythal, I mean to say, wouldn't you'd be more comfortable inside? Unless you want to get healed out here, in the middle of the night."

“No, of course not,” Cullen stammered. “Let’s go.”

Vairi grabbed her coat off of the low branch she had hung it on. She pulled it on, grateful to warm up from the cool night air.

And so they walked side-by-side. Cullen led Vairi up the stone steps towards his office.

“I, ah, didn’t know you slept outside.” Cullen said as they climbed.

“Oh, yes. It’s a hard habit to break. You know, since I used to … live in the woods.” Vairi’s voice got quieter at her last few words, after she felt in the middle of saying them that it must have sounded strange. “It might sound odd for a human, but I just prefer the trees and sky to walls.”

“No, I could understand. The stone structures can be oppressive at times.”

_ Oppressive. _ That was the exact word Vairi had thought of before.

“Do you not have possessions that need storage?” Cullen inquired. “Where do you keep those?”

Vairi tugged her coat closer around her as they reached the battlements. “I keep this with me -- Josephine sent away for it, and I can’t let it go -- but my equipment and other armor is stored in the tavern loft. Cole usually stays up there. I asked him if he would let me put my clothes in that dresser… I forget what he said, but it was interesting, and I think it meant ‘yes.’”

“I see. That’s…” Cullen paused, unsure of who Cole was. “...considerate of him. And… your coat is very nice.”

Vairi blushed as they approached the Commander’s office. Cullen opened the door and Vairi took in the space. One of the staff must have snuffed out the large iron-ring chandelier already, for the room was mostly dark. The large square office was lit by a solitary candle on the Commander's desk, creating a soft halo around the papers stacked high.

The Commander shut the door behind him with a dull thud. Vairi's heartbeat jumped, suddenly realizing she was alone with a human man in a dark room.

Her eyes scanned the horizon, as was her instinct when she felt scared. There was a chair in a corner near his desk, but it wasn't even being used. It was stacked high with yet more papers. 

Vairi scuttled over to the chair, trying not to show her flushed face. She gingerly took the stack of papers off the chair and put them onto a scarce open space on the desk. As Cullen approached, watching her curiously, Vairi pulled the chair away from the wall so there would be room behind it.

"Would you please sit?" Vairi squeaked, and motioned to the chair. "And could you tell me what you're feeling?"

The Commander did so. He settled in, putting a hand to his temple again. "You were right about the withdrawal, as I said. The pain varies usually between muscle aches, stomach pains, and headaches. Today it's the last."

"Your head?" Vairi brought a hand to her chin, thinking. "I see. I have a spell. Shall we see what it can do?"

Cullen nodded. "Do I need to…?" he didn't finish, apparently having no words to even suggest anything.

Vairi stood behind the chair and rubbed her hands together to warm them. "You don't need to do anything in particular. Close your eyes, if you like. I'm starting the spell soon, and I'm going to touch your head. Please don't be alarmed."

Vairi began the spell. It emitted a blue light from her hands, like a flock of glowbugs. Undulating energy pulsed in the spaces between her fingers.

Vairi reached, and softly laid her hands on the Commander's temples. He didn't startle, as she had feared. The opposite, in fact; Cullen audibly sighed.

Vairi giggled. "It sounds like it feels alright."

"Sweet Maker," Cullen said, unraveling. "It's just… melting away. Aches I didn't know I had."

Vairi smiled. "This is good. Just relax, and tell me if I should stop."

Cullen hummed quietly in acknowledgement. The spell didn't require much focus or power so much as it needed accuracy. Vairi's fingers were positioned in exactly the right spots, and as the Commander described, it was working. Vairi noticed the way her hands rested; palms sitting just above his ears, and her fingertips touching the skin on his temples. Her fingers had mingled in his blonde hair. She hadn’t thought it would be soft, but it was. Soft, and laden with loose curls. Vairi hadn’t even noticed them until she was confident enough to look at him straight on, at this proximity.

The two of them sat in a gentle silence for a few minutes, until the Commander began to stir. He straightened his back in the chair before standing up.

“That…” he searched for the words. “It’s been a full month since my head felt this clear. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“It’s all right. I’m just glad I can help.” Vairi said, averting her eyes once again.

"Would you… please, come back tomorrow?" 

The tenderness in the way he said those words gave Vairi pause. She looked directly at him, this time. It seemed like the stress lines around his amber eyes were softer even now. Vulnerable. His eyelashes hung low as he looked down towards her, and they were golden. 

"That is, erm, if you would like." Cullen stammered.

"Of course," Vairi said. "I will. Just come find me?" 

"I will." Cullen nodded.

Vairi inclined her head. "Good night, Commander. Sleep well."

Vairi left the Commander's office and closed the door behind her. She immediately shifted into a kestrel and started doing loops around a tall banner-post.  _ It had worked! _

She thought she would have to sit there, ineffective, useless while someone suffered, but she didn't have to. She thought after her blunders that the Commander would spurn her forever, but she had been wrong about that too. Amazingly wrong.  _ It feels good to be this wrong. _ She had been wrong. Her and the Commander could perhaps be friends, one day. And he would have peace. He wouldn't be trapped. 

Vairi's heart wouldn't stop fluttering. She took a few more loops around the tower and let out whooping chirps of joy. Vairi wanted to tell everyone, but who was even awake at this hour? Dorian would not be happy to have his rest disturbed.  _ Fenedhis _ , she would have to tell him sorry for her foul mood earlier. In the morning.

_ Cole _ ! Cole would be awake. Vairi sailed on the night winds towards the tavern. 

She turned her small white body through a narrow opening of the shutters in the loft. 

Vairi transformed and landed on the wooden deck that overlooked the whole tavern.

Cole was sitting on the railing and running his hand along the wood grain. He jumped up when Vairi came towards him. 

"You're… happy!" he said, as if his voice was filled with light. Under his large hat, Vairi saw a gap-toothed smile.

"I am!"

"You helped!" Cole said, wiggling his hands at the wrists. "Looping, whooping, flapping around the towers. You helped, you healed! You're happy."

Vairi giggled. "I am," she repeated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And if you're returning, thanks for your patience as I grapple with the dreaded masters' degree workload. Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a prompt by dextronoms on Tumblr to create this character. I don't have a Tumblr but you can view the completed prompt as well.


End file.
